


here under the mistletoe

by acrookedsaint



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Best Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mistletoe shenanigans, merry belated christmas and happy new year!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 06:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrookedsaint/pseuds/acrookedsaint
Summary: It starts off simple. Get Bellamy and Clarke to a party. Liquor them up a little bit. Get them talking. Bring down their guards.And then, when they least expect it, hang the mistletoe.Watch as happily ever after begins.- or, bellarke and mistletoe shenanigans, courtesy of the delinquents
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 52
Collections: Bellarke-Mas Secret Santa





	here under the mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [changingthefairy_tale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/changingthefairy_tale/gifts).



> this fic is part of the Bellarke-Mas Secret Santa and is gifted to the lovely Mads, aka changingthefairy_tale!!
> 
> i do love some good mistletoe shenanigans, so i decided to go with the prompt 'best friends to lovers + mistletoe shenanigans courtesy of the delinquents'!! i hope you enjoy this!! i hope you had a very merry christmas and have a very happy new year!!
> 
> special thanks to Bella, aka virgohopspot for giving this a read through!! you're an angel!!

It starts off simple. Get Bellamy and Clarke to a party. Liquor them up a little bit. Get them talking. Bring down their guards.

And then, when they least expect it, hang the mistletoe. 

Watch as happily ever after begins. 

It was a simple plan - a good plan. No room for things to go wrong and for two best friends who had been pining after each other for years to finally get their act together.

It was a simple plan, until Murphy got involved.

‘All I’m saying,’ he begins, and everyone in the room collectively groans. All Murphy’s saying is never _all_ Murphy’s saying. There’s always something else on the tip of his tongue. Always another trick up his sleeve. ‘We can make a spectacle out of this. It’ll be a great story. And trust me, it’ll be better in the long run.’

Absolutely no one trusts Murphy, but they all agree anyway. It’s Bellamy and Clarke, after all. They deserve the best.

Murphy takes the lead. He sends Monty to lay the groundwork with Bellamy and Raven to lay the groundwork with Clarke. 

‘All they need is a little nudge, here and there,’ argues Emori, the logic to Murphy’s epic planning. ‘They both know how they feel. Under the mistletoe they’ll realise it.’

But even Monty shakes his head at that one. ‘Clarke and Bellamy are _both_ oblivious, which means that even if they do admit their feelings to themselves they’ll never admit it to each other. They’re best friends. They’re scared of getting rejected and losing what they have.’

‘They’re playing it safe,’ agrees Harper. ‘Which is where alcohol comes into play.’

Murphy points a finger at her triumphantly. ‘I _knew_ I’d corrupt you eventually!’

Harper rolls her eyes playfully, but they all know she’s right. Bellamy and Clarke would never get close to admitting their mutual undying love for another sober. 

‘A party it is then,’ Murphy declares. ‘It’ll be a big one. A Christmas party. That way we won’t need to explain the mistletoe. It’ll just be there. And we can point it out, playfully, like it’s a joke.’

‘But we’ll be serious,’ interjects Raven. ‘We’ll bully them into it.’

Harper winces, ever the moral compass. ‘I don’t know guys. This feels a little manipulative. Do Clarke and Bellamy even want this? I don’t think this is a good idea. At all.’

Murphy shrugs. ‘I get it. But you have to remember this: it’s for the greater good.’

‘For Bellamy and Clarke?’ Harper asks.

‘What? No!’ Murphy scoffs. ‘We have to do this for us. I can’t handle their pining any longer. Especially since it’s mutual and they’re both too afraid to bite the bullet and just admit it.’

‘Okay,’ says Harper. ‘I’m in, I guess.’

Murphy turns to everyone else. ‘Operation Mistletoe: a go, or a no?’

‘A go,’ answers Emori. ‘But we have to come up with a better name.’

‘Deal,’ says Murphy. 

And they all shake on it.

* * *

‘So,’ says Clarke, smiling at her best friend. ‘Have you ever been to a Christmas party before?’

Bellamy grins at her. It makes Clarke’s heart do a funny jump in her chest, something that she doesn’t exactly appreciate. Her feelings for Bellamy Blake are fairly straight forward, considering everything, but she knows that revealing them will just make things complicated. That’s why she has to stick to the easy topics. Talk of parties and Christmas, not love and mistletoe and everything in between. 

‘I don’t think I have, actually,’ Bellamy muses, offering her his arm as they trudge through the snow. Clarke takes a moment to acknowledge how sweet that is before tuning back into the conversation. ‘I’ve never been to a _Murphy_ Christmas party though, which I’m sure will be an entirely different experience.’

‘What, you don’t think it’s going to be his closest friends sitting around the fire drinking eggnog like civilised people?’ asks Clarke, faking surprise. ‘I’m stunned, Blake, really, I am.’

Bellamy laughs. Oh, how that laugh does things to the butterflies in her stomach. Oh, how she wishes those butterflies would just drop dead and leave her be. ‘I think that what may start off as an innocent Christmas party, will definitely, and when I say definitely, I mean _definitely_ turn into an all out rager. Murphy’s never been good at subtle, after all.’

Clarke frowns at the house in the distance. Even from here, she can see that Bellamy’s right. There are cars and people everywhere, exactly the reason they’d chosen to walk. The lights are bright though - Murphy always goes all out with his Christmas decorations, and this year is no exception. There’s a giant inflatable Santa on the lawn, and Clarke wants to burst into laughter just looking at it. 

‘I think it’s going to be great,’ Clarke says, and even though she doesn’t really mean it, she wants to. No doubt _Bellamy_ will have a great time, and she’ll sit in the corner, judging everyone while nursing the same cup of alcohol she won’t drink for the entire night.

Bellamy snorts. ‘You don’t mean that. You hate parties, and you hate drinking. And most of all, you hate Murphy’s parties.’

‘That’s because they always turn into ragers!’ Clarke protests, trying to ignore how warm it makes her feel that he knows her so well. ‘And that’s not exactly the embodiment of the spirit of Christmas!’

‘No, but we’re here now,’ Bellamy grins, laughing as she turns up her nose at the couple making out against a nearby car. ‘We may as well make the most of it! And who knows, maybe this will be the best night of your life.’

_I doubt it_ , Clarke thinks but doesn’t say. The party scene just isn’t her scene. 

And the only thing she wants for Christmas is the one thing she can’t have.

* * *

Clarke abandons him immediately once they get inside Murphy’s house, citing the need to use the bathroom. Bellamy’s ninety nine percent sure she’s lying. Number one, she _hates_ going to the bathroom in other people’s houses, and number two, she’s been acting sketchy ever since Murphy first mentioned this party.

Bellamy hates to admit it to himself, but he’s pretty sure he knows the reason why.

She knows. 

He doesn’t know how she knows, but Clarke’s been his best friend for what feels like forever now. She knows him like the back of her hand, and now she knows his most deeply buried secret, the one he swore to himself would never see the light of day, because what’s happening now was never supposed to happen. 

Clarke knew that he was in love with her and now she didn’t know how to act around him. 

Because she didn’t feel the same way.

Because she only wants to be his friend.

This is exactly what Bellamy has been afraid of ever since he’d admitted to himself, that yes, his feelings for Clarke were more than friendly. _Way_ more than friendly. 

He hadn’t realised it himself for a really long time. He’d always thought she was beautiful. He’d always liked the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed. He’d always wanted to talk to her more than anyone else - but that was normal. She was funny, she was kind, she was always willing to listen to him. 

But then, one day, completely out of the blue, when Clarke had been talking about a new class she was taking - the history of art in the eighteenth century - and he’d looked over at her and suddenly he _knew_.

And it was alright that he knew. As long as only he knew, nothing would have to change.

Except now Clarke _did_ know, and everything would change. 

And truthfully? He’d thought he’d done a good job of hiding it. Excellent, really. He hadn’t changed the way he acted around her, or gotten jealous when she’d started dating someone. He’d kept his heart in his chest where it belonged instead of wearing it on his sleeve. 

But still, somehow, Clarke had found out, and now their friendship was going to be ruined.

_Precisely_ the thing he had been trying to avoid in the first place. 

Bellamy surveys the crowd. He needs either Monty or Murphy. Preferably Monty, who’s far more calm under pressure. Monty will know exactly what to do. Maybe he’ll even talk to Clarke, subtly get inside her head and try to understand what’s going on. Does she _really_ know? Is she acting different because of something else? 

_Maybe it’s the party_ , Bellamy thinks, and then shrugs to himself. It could be. Clarke’s always detested parties, preferring to sit alone in a corner barely sipping her beer and judging everybody who walks past her. 

And this was a _Murphy_ party, something she hated even more than the regular thing. Something she might act weird about, especially if her best friend had dragged her there against her will. 

Yes. That was _it_. The party! Clarke was acting weird because of the party. 

Bellamy nods to himself, smiling a little as he heads toward the kitchen. It all made sense now. He could relax, get a beer, go find Clarke, and revel in the fact that their friendship was safe for another day. 

Except.

Clarke had started acting weird _before_ they’d even found out about the party. In fact, it had started over a week ago, when she’d been talking to Raven one minute and freaking out the next. 

Which meant.

She _knew_.

Bellamy takes in a big breath of air, nearly choking on it. 

‘You okay, man?’ Monty appears at Bellamy’s side holding two beers and looking concerned. ‘You look like you’re in mid freak out.’

Bellamy grasps Monty by the shoulders. ‘She knows. Clarke _knows_.’

‘Huh?’ Monty asks, confusion written all over his face.

‘My life is over,’ Bellamy says, staring mournfully into space. ‘I messed up man. Nothing’s ever going to be the same again.’

He takes a beer.

* * *

The party is full blown by the time Monty finds Murphy in the crowd. 

‘Dude,’ he hisses. ‘I think we messed up.’

‘What?’ Murphy shouts, grinning wildly, red solo cup in hand. ‘We’re doing great! This party is _awesome_!’

Monty frowns. ‘What about Bellamy and Clarke? You know, the reason we threw this party in the first place?’

Murphy scoffs. ‘They’ll figure things out. Just let it run its course. They’ll be together by the end of the night, smooching under the mistletoe. Mark my words. You’ll see.’

‘Yeah, about that,’ Monty begins. ‘I think Harper was right. This _was_ a bad idea.’

Murphy frowns. ‘Wait. What happened?’

‘Bellamy thinks that Clarke knows he’s in love with her. He thinks that she doesn’t feel the same way and is trying to let him down easy, which means changing the dynamic of their friendship forever.’

‘Seriously?’ Murphy groans. ‘Hasn’t Bellamy figured out that _she’s_ in love with him?’

‘Nope!’ Monty says, taking a swig of his beer. ‘He’s too paranoid about her potentially figuring out _his_ feelings for her. He thinks she’s been acting weird.’

Murphy snorts. ‘She’s probably paranoid, that's he’s figured out how she feels about him.’

Monty shrugs. ‘You could be right. But either way, we’re swerving into dangerous territory. If we don’t intervene something terrible is going to happen. I can feel it.’

‘Dramatic much?’ Murphy asks, but he’s grinning. ‘Okay. Operation Mistletoe is a go.’

He heads of into the crowd, suddenly a man on a mission. 

Monty groans. 

But he still follows. 

It’s Bellamy and Clarke, after all.

* * *

Clarke is hiding. She really can’t help it. Parties have never been her scene and she just can’t face Bellamy right now. 

She’s certain that he’s noticed the subtle changes in her behaviour, the ways she’s being trying to cover up the way she feels. She’s certain that he’s noticed and is sparing her feelings by pretending he hasn’t.

She’s certain about a lot of things, but Bellamy has never been one of them, at least not in this circumstance.

‘There you are! I’ve been looking for you! Bellamy said you went to the bathroom and never came back!’

It’s Harper, drink in hand, smile in place. 

Clarke grins weakly back. ‘I found my corner. I didn’t want to leave.’

‘Not even for Bellamy?’ Harper asks, with a knowing glint in her eye.

Clarke suddenly hates how perceptive her friend can be. ‘Even for Bellamy,’ she murmurs. 

‘You should tell him,’ Harper blurts out, sitting down next to her. ‘I’m sure his reaction isn’t going to be the one you’re expecting.’

‘Complete and utter rejection, as well as the breakdown of our friendship?’ Clarke asks, willing to bathe in self pity for just one night. ‘He doesn’t feel the same way about me, and it’s time to stop acting like he might one day. I just need to get over him. And then we can get back to the way things are supposed to be. Us, as friends.’

Harper frowns, pursing her lips. ‘Why are you so sure that he doesn’t feel the same way?’

Clarke rolls her eyes. ‘Because we’ve been friends for what feels like forever, and he’s never said or done anything before. He’s only ever looked at me like a friend, like a sister even. If I tell him how I feel he’s going to give me the pity look, and I don’t want the pity look, not from him.’

‘What’s the pity look?’ Harper questions, frowning even more.

Clarke grins sadly. ‘It’s the look he’s going to give me when he has to let me down easy and tell me that he only wants to be my friend if I ever tell him.’

‘Well,’ Harper says, taking a sip of her drink. ‘I wouldn’t be so certain about that pity look. There’s a lot that you don’t see about Bellamy. He’s got layers. Like Shrek.’

Clarke grins again. This time it’s a little happier. Harper’s always been an easy going drunk, content to make people laugh just to see their smiles. ‘Well, unless you know something I don’t, I’m out of luck and I don’t want the pity look.’

Harper leans forward. ‘But,’ she says, in a stage whisper. ‘I _do_ know something you don’t.’

Clarke playfully leans forward too. ‘And what’s that?’

‘Operation Mistletoe!’ Harper announces gleefully. ‘I’ve got to get you under some mistletoe, pronto! Murphy’s orders.’

‘Oh god,’ Clarke groans. ‘Is he trying to set me up again?’

‘Maybeeeee,’ Harper giggles. ‘But I think this time you’re going to be very, _very_ happy about it. In fact, we’re _all_ going to be very happy about it. It’s going to put an end to all the pining. And!’

She sits up straight. ‘It’s going to be a Christmas miracle!’

‘Setting me up with a guy is going to be a Christmas miracle?’ Clarke asks, slightly offended. But Harper isn’t looking at her anymore. Instead, she’s staring wistfully into space.

‘You and Bellamy are going to make such a cute couple,’ she whispers.

‘What?’ Clarke asks, sure that she’d heard the last part wrong.

‘Nothing!’ Harper chirps. ‘Come on! We have to go find some mistletoe!’

But Clarke’s still stuck on that last comment, even as she lets Harper pull her away. 

_You and Bellamy are going to make such a cute couple_.

What?

* * *

‘Just wait here,’ Murphy says, positioning him under a doorway. ‘There’s someone I think you need to talk to. She’ll be here in a minute.’

‘Who?’ Bellamy frowns. ‘If it’s Clarke I’m going to kill you.’

‘No you won’t,’ Murphy scoffs. ‘I’m your best friend.’

‘ _Monty’s_ my best friend,’ Bellamy gripes. ‘You’re trying to get me to confront my demons. He just lets me wallow. I know which one I prefer.’

‘Relax!’ Murphy says. ‘I never told you it was Clarke coming to meet you.’

Bellamy feels his panic dissipate, just like that. ‘It’s not Clarke?’

‘Oh no, it definitely is!’ Murphy says. ‘But as long as you’re honest with her _everything_ is going to turn out just the way I planned.’

Bellamy frowns. ‘The way _you_ planned?’

‘The way the universe planned,’ Murphy states unapologetically. ‘We’re one and the same, you know.’

‘Whatever,’ Bellamy says. ‘There’s no way I’m going to let you bully me into confessing my feelings.’

‘Really,’ Murphy says, the picture of smugness. Bellamy kind of wants to punch him. ‘Okay then. But you _should_ wallow. That’s definitely something you should do. So I’ll leave you to it, okay?’

‘Whatever,’ Bellamy repeats, turning away from his friend. This night was going downhill fast, and if he had to talk to Clarke, at least he could sort out the weirdness between them. Clear the air. Make everything okay again.

There’s a click behind him, and Bellamy spins around. Murphy’s gone. The door is closed.

Bellamy tries the handle.

It’s locked.

_Bastard_ , he thinks, and sits down to wallow.

* * *

‘Look, it’s simple,’ Murphy says. ‘He likes you. You like him. You’ve both got absolutely nothing to be worried about, and yet here you both are, losing your goddamn freaking minds because you think your love is unrequited.’

Emori coughs. ‘What Murphy’s _trying_ to say is that you should tell Bellamy how you feel. Because we know for a fact that it’ll be reciprocated.’

Clarke sits in stunned silence. She can’t move her mouth to form words. She can’t even blink. Every single part of her body feels as though it has been suspended. She’s floating in the air, even if the logical part of her brain tells her that this can’t be true. 

But her friends wouldn’t lie. And Bellamy wouldn’t lie to them.

Which means. 

He likes her. When she smiles his heart does a funny jump in his chest. When she laughs the butterflies take flight. Whenever they do something together it’s because he craves her company over anyone else’s, just the same way that she craves his. 

‘Clarke,’ Monty says gently. ‘Do you understand what we’re saying?’

Clarke manages a nod, but she’s still staring into space, lost in thought. 

Bellamy feels the same way about her as she does about him. Their friendship isn’t ruined, it’s only stronger then it was before. She hasn’t lost anything, only gained something wonderful, something beautiful, something -

‘Wait,’ she says. Five heads turn towards her expectantly. ‘If Bellamy feels this way about me, why hasn’t he ever said anything? Why would he keep it hidden?’

‘Seriously?’ Murphy scoffs. ‘You’re wondering why _he_ kept it hidden? Why did _you_ keep it hidden? Jesus Christ, you two have the worst communication skills I’ve ever seen for two people who are madly in love with each other.’

Clarke blushes, trying to ignore the second part of his answer. ‘I kept it hidden because I was afraid it would ruin our friendship! I was afraid that he wouldn’t feel the same way! I -’

_Oh_.

All this time Clarke thought she was alone in feeling what she was feeling. At first she’d thought it was a phase. Bellamy had always been so nice. They had a heap in common - that’s why they were friends. 

But she’d never imagined that they would share the same insecurities too. The same worries. The same desperate need to keep their friendship intact. 

It made her love him all the more. To know that she meant this much to him. To know that their friendship meant that much to him, without ever pushing her to be something more. 

‘...And we’ve lost her,’ Murphy groans. ‘She’s in dreamland again, folks.’

‘No, I’m not,’ Clarke answers, smiling up at her friends, her wonderful friends, who had finally decided to take action and make her world a better place. ‘I’m ready. For Operation Mistletoe, or whatever it is you want to call it. I’m ready. I’ve been ready for a really, really long time.’

Murphy smiles. ‘Then allow me to lead you to the mistletoe.’

* * *

The wait is agonising. The door is shut. They can’t even hear Clarke and Bellamy talking.

‘Maybe they’re already making good use of the mistletoe,’ Raven suggests. ‘The silence could be a good sign.’

‘Or, maybe Clarke’s chickened out and now they’re too afraid to speak to each other,’ Murphy groans. ‘Maybe we put all this hard work into a scheme that’s ultimately going to fail, because our friends are idiots and can’t figure out that they’re made for each other.’

Emori frowns. ‘You know, you’re really getting worked up over this. If Clarke and Bellamy don’t get together tonight, it’s okay. We keep trying. We keep making them face the obvious until they can’t avoid or ignore it anymore. If we fail, we try again.’

Murphy rolls his eyes. ‘Nice speech. But they _have_ to get together tonight. Otherwise, this has all been for nothing! I don’t do anything for nothing.’

Monty and Emori exchange glances. ‘What are you talking about?’ Monty asks. ‘Emori’s right. We can try again and again until we get it. There’s nothing special about tonight. It’s just a Christmas party with some mistletoe.’

Murphy shuffles his feet. ‘Yeah, you’re right. It’s okay if they don’t get together tonight. It’ll happen. Eventually.’

There’s silence. Within the group, and behind the door. And then:

‘Oh. My. God.’

Harper lifts up her head and glares daggers at Murphy. ‘You _bastard_. You’re trying to win the bet!’

Murphy looks shifty. ‘The bet? What bet? I am simply trying to help out two of my closest friends in their time of need. How dare you accuse me of anything else?’

There is a collective groan. 

‘You’re trying to win the bet,’ Emori says.

Murphy has the sense to look sheepish. ‘I’m trying to win the bet.’

* * *

All Bellamy can do is stare at her. It’s impossible not to really. The girl of his dreams, standing in front of him and telling him that she feels the same way he does. 

And yet he doesn’t know what to say. It’s funny, because it always seems as though he’s all out of words when it’s not about Clarke. And yet now, as she’s saying what he’s been wanting her to say for years, saying what _he’s_ been wanting to say for years, something feels...off.

‘Well?’ Clarke asks, ringing her hands together. 

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Bellamy says, and it’s true. He doesn’t. 

‘I just… poured my heart out to you, and you don’t know what to say?’ Clarke asks, and Bellamy can see the anger in her eyes, the hurt. 

‘I just -’ he begins, but Clarke cuts him off. 

‘You could say you feel the same way. You could say that you don’t. But something is better than nothing. Something is _always_ better than nothing!’

But the words won’t come. Right when he needs them the most, the words won’t come. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. He doesn’t know why he can’t speak.

‘God,’ Clarke groans. ‘I can’t believe I did this. I can’t believe I let _Murphy_ convince me to do this. How much of an idiot can I be? I actually believed that you… when clearly you don’t!’

‘Clarke,’ Bellamy says. ‘Come on. You know how I feel, surely you know that.’

‘Know what?’ she bursts out. ‘How could I know anything! You _never_ tell me how you feel! How am I supposed to walk one hundred miles for you when you won’t even walk one?’

And that’s when Bellamy knows what he has to do.

When words fail…

He takes three long strides and cups her face in his hands. Her beautiful, perfect face, eyes that are somehow green and blue, light freckles dotting her skin like constellations. 

And then, then he does the bravest thing he’s ever done.

He leans down and he presses his lips to hers. 

And maybe it’s poetic, or maybe it’s stupid. But it feels like a revelation. It feels like a miracle, like a godsend. Her warmth is shooting through his body as he presses his lips to hers. He didn’t know that kissing someone could feel like this, could feel like flying and falling in the same moment. 

He’s never felt more grounded.

He’s never felt more free.

Bellamy Blake kisses Clarke Griffin under the mistletoe and everything changes. Everything aligns. Everything falls into place. He can feel her heart beating. Her eyelashes fluttering. And he knows. He knows and he knows and he knows. This is it. 

_She_ is it.

They break away, resting their foreheads together. Bellamy feels better than he has in days, adrenaline pumping through his veins like blood. 

Clarke laughs, a delighted giggle that sends the butterflies in his stomach whirling. ‘Oh,’ she says. ‘ _Oh_!’ 

‘That’s how I feel,’ he whispers. ‘That’s how I’ve always felt.’

Clarke smiles up at him, and he knows that she understands, because she’s Clarke, she’s _his_ Clarke. 

‘You know what I think you should do,’ Clarke whispers, looking up at him. 

Bellamy has never seen such a beautiful sight. Her eyes are shining. He’s never seen her so happy before. He can’t believe that _he’s_ the one who gets to make her this happy. 

‘I think you should come tell me how you feel again.’

And so, under the mistletoe, he does.

* * *

It ends simply too.

Snow falling gently to the ground as midnight passes. The crackling of a fire in the hearth, warm and orange and bright. Moonlight streaming in through large windows, illuminating the room. 

Two figures, standing under the mistletoe, wrapped up in each other without a care in the world. 

A very merry Christmas, indeed.

‘I totally won the bet by the way,’ Murphy grins, folding his arms together with a contented sigh.

Emori smirks. ‘Nice try. But it’s after midnight.’

‘So?’

‘So, Harper wins.’

‘What?’

‘Harper _wins_.’

‘Goddammit!’

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @[betty-coopers](https://betty-coopers.tumblr.com) and on twitter @[ahobbitinahole](https://twitter.com/ahobbitinahole). feel free to come and talk to me anytime!


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